Aloysius Dawson must die
by changcolossus
Summary: Jonathan Reid decides to kill Aloysius Dawson, and he has to face Lord Redgrave, among other consequences...


"You cannot save everyone, Dr. Reid. When I die, half of London will perish in agony, and the other half will know you are a vampire disguised as a doctor, along with all your atrocities. I am the richest man watching over West End in a dark age like this one, with the spreading Spanish Epidemic adding to the aftermath of the Great War. I mustn't die! Now be nice and turn me into a vampire, as you have promised!"

Jonathan Reid sighed, and clutched Aloysius Dawson by his arms. He had heard enough of Dawson from the West End citizens. How he aims to "build a wall" separating West End from the rest of London, how the vampire lords in the Ascalon club gave him a position just because of his wealth and influence, how he desperately seeks ways to immortality so that he could continue this life of power and riches. He must die.

The sound, he's hearing it again.

Ron-dom, ron-dom.

So distant, like drums rolling afar, but it was getting closer and closer, faster and faster as the hatred and the thirst gathered up in Jonathan. His eyes were blurred by the misty red of the blood throbbing in Dawson's veins, blocking his thoughts. Without further hesitation, he bit Dawson on his neck.

Dawson's hand dangled feebly from his sofa, glowed by the flames burning in the fireplace, showing a reddish-orange color. A drop of blood trickled from his wound in the neck, and slipped onto the sheets. His eyes wide, his mouth gaping, his body deprived of blood.

"Just as what I have thought. Well done, my friend."

Jonathan turned around. He should have foreseen this. Lord Redgrave stood in front of him. Clearly, the work of turning Dawson into a vampire is crucial to the Ascalon Club, which is a club of elite vampires, after all. And it was almost certain that Lord Redgrave, as the head of the club, would be inspecting on how this is carried out.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Redgrave?"

"Only you, and you alone, will kill him, while the other vampires will carry out the task as assigned to them. You see, we do not intend to turn Aloysius Dawson into a vampire after all, and so do you. Doing this will only add to his powers, which is no good for our cause, especially if he is to become an eternal member of the Ascalon Club. He can never learn to hide his power and wealth. This can only bring attention, as well as doom to our kind. Whilst on the other hand, eliminating him will ensure our sole influence over West End, which we used to share with Dawson."

Jonathan was awed. He had never expected things to turn out so smoothly. He was ready to be thrown out of the Ascalon club, hunted down by other members of the Club, or worse, by Lord Redgrave himself. For the first time, he found that Lord Redgrave could see eye to eye with him, which is uncommon for the vampire he had long put up his defenses against.

"My gratitude for your appreciation of what I just did. But if this was what Ascalon wanted, why didn't you just ask me to kill him in the first place?"

"I could see the hatred and abomination in your blood-shot eyes when I handed you this opportunity, so I left the choice to you, knowing that you will not disappoint Ascalon."

Lord Redgrave spoke with care. Jonathan could sense the careful choice of words spoken by this sophisticated immortal. Lord Redgrave seemed to be more of a politician than a vampire, planning every move, along with its outcomes and risks. Jonathan knew that by "leaving the choice" to him, Lord Redgrave and the Ascalon Club would be free of all responsibilities, and if the higher authorities were to investigate on Aloysius Dawson's death, the Ascalon Club can always throw the blame on him. Maybe this is what Lord Redgrave wanted for real, to get rid of a menacing immortal of purer blood without getting his own hands dirty. Jonathan observed this pair of crimson eyes, which are deep and unfathomable. A polite approach is the best approach.

"Thank you again for trusting me with such an important task. It is an honor to know that I can be of service to the Ascalon Club in such a special way."

"This is no time for courtesy and compliments. We still have to cover up the true reason of his death with some smart excuses. His illness can serve this purpose well. Killing means much more than taking a man's life. I will order one of our members to prepare for his funeral, and another to write an obituary for the press. While I myself will see what can be done to cover up the terrible wound on his neck. You could have simply mesmerized him and left him to his end. It would have been much less trouble."

"I could have, but it is not my style. It would not be enough to dissipate my disgust for him."

"Good. A strong attitude. However you like it, you have truly done an honorable deed."

Lord Redgrave smiled, and patted Jonathan on the shoulder. He sat down on the sofa and started to check Aloysius Dawson's deadly wound.

"Now, if I am not mistaken, there is someone waiting for you outside."

Jonathan was too preoccupied to think of who could be waiting for him outside at this hour of the night. Perhaps he shouldn't have killed Aloysius Dawson after all. There is a life without end in front of him, and just thinking of the possibilities of being hunt down by the most prestigious mortals and immortals in London for decades and decades sent a shiver down his spine. What chance does he have against them, besides constant hiding and disguising?

Jonathan put his hand on the doorknob, and opened the door.


End file.
